Forgive Me
by somethinginthewayful
Summary: Just a simple S/B oneshot rewrite of 2x03 when Branson tries to "assassinate" the guest at dinner. What if Sybil found the note and tried to stop him? Some S/B fluffiness and general cuteness. Read, Enjoy, and Review! 3


_Sybil / Branson One-Shot Rewrite of 2x03_

**A/N: So this is just a "what-if" one-shot, pretty simple and fluffy. I just had to write it out, even if I think 2x03 was a pretty flawless episode and this wouldn't have fit. Still needed to write it out, either way. Hope you enjoy it!**

"Sybil, hurry, dinner is going to be served soon!" Mary called up the steps to her sister as Sybil rushed back up to her room.

"Just a moment, Mary," she called, "I forgot something," Sybil pushed into her room and began rummaging through jewelery box. Grasping the piece that she wanted she took a step backwards to turn but her foot brushed against something lying on the floor.

She lifted her skirts and looked down beneath her, a piece of parchment beneath her. She looked at the looping script, _forgive me. _Puzzled she opened the letter, and began to read.

_I never wished to hurt you, but they'll have arrested me by now and I'm not sorry. The bastard had it coming to him. I'm only sorry if this has caused you any pain, remember me and remember everything I said to you the day I dropped you off in York. It's still true today. -Tom_

Her stomach flipped violently and dropped, her thoughts raged as she stood frozen for a half second. With the letter still clutched in her fingers and her skirts lifted enough to run through the house she set off down the steps in the direction of the downtstairs.

She dodged past the sitting room unseen, hearing her family rising and heading to dinner without her. They would be bringing up first courses soon, and she feared it would the course that Branson helped poison. This was not the way to help Ireland. She took the staircase closest to the kitchens, nearly tripping over her own quick moving feet, she had to stop him.

Anna was at the base of the steps, smoothing her skirts, about to head up to the Crawley's rooms to clean up before bed. "Lady Sybil!"

"Oh, Anna, thank God," she slowed and grasped the maid's shoulders, "Where is Branson?"

"He's in the kitchens I'd suspect, helping with..." before Anna could finish Sybil broke back into a run and ran to the kitchen window. Branson was straightening his livery bow tie and reaching for the large soup carafe.

Sybil composed herself and entered the kitchen, "Branson," she said and his head snapped up to look at her, "Could I see you a moment?"

The kitchen froze, all eyes on Lady Sybil. "Of course, m'lady," he set the soup down and locked his jaw, heading towards her.

She gestured for him to follow her, down one of the hallways away from prying eyes, "Branson, what on Earth were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that that _man_," he spat out the words, "is a bastard and deserves to be told so."

"By killing him?" Sybil covered her mouth with her gloved hand, the letter still gripped in her fingertips.

"Who said anything about killing him?" his eyes clouded with confusion.

She looked up, "Your letter,"

"Said nothing of the sort," he shook his head, "The soup bowl, it's full of oil and ink... I was going to douse him in it, embarass him,"

Sybil barked out a laugh and her eyes filled with tears. Pressing her hands against her face she took a half step back and let out a small choking sob.

"M'lady," he stepped towards her and laid a gentle hand on her arm, "Sybil, what is it?"

She laid her opposite hand ontop of his and smiled, "I thought... I just... you would have been gone, forever. From Downton... from me,"

Branson smiled, "Does that frighten you, m'lady?"

"I just got you back," she admitted, "I thought you were going to war, I thought you'd be killed... and then I knew you'd be safe, and with me at Downton, but you go and do something like this, and take yourself away from me again,"

He smiled wider and turned his hand to grip hers, "Alright,"

"Alright what?"

"I won't do anything that would cause you pain," he squeezed her hand comfortingly, "and I won't get myself thrown into jail,"

"Good," she straightened up, "Ireland needs you,"

"Mhm," he nodded and then after a beat, "Ireland needs me? Or you do, m'lady?"

Sybil's stomach knotted and she laced her fingers in his, "Both,"

"Is that so?" Tom was teasing her now.

"Please," she begged, "you know how difficult this is for me,"

"I do," he nodded, "but m'lady, I love you, and I know you love me. That's enough for now, I'll wait,"

"Oh, Tom," she breathed and his eyes brightened when she used his first name, "right now, with the war and my family... now is not the time,"

"I know, m'lady," he murmured, "that's why I'll wait,"

"You can't wait forever," she looked up at him, her body wanting so badly to kiss him but her brain grounding her.

"I can," he countered, "and I will,"

Her throat constricted for a moment but finally she managed to pull herself away and straighten herself out, smoothing her dress and hair back into perfect place, "I have to go to dinner,"

"I know," he smiled, "I have to serve it,"

There was a pause and Sybil grasped his hand and pulled him into a hug, "Thank you, Tom,"

"For what, m'lady?" he pulled her close, breathing in her scent.

"Everything," she sighed into his shoulder.

"Always," they pulled apart at the same instant, smoothing their clothes again and turning swiftly in separate directions to return to their posts, upstairs and downstairs respectfully.

Sybil climed the steps and headed to dinner, making her excuses and taking her typical seat as the dinner began to be served. She participated minimally in the evening's conversations, and was completely distracted with Branson entered the dining room, leaning over each family member's shoulder to provide gravy for their meal. As Branson rounded her and leaned over Sybil's shoulder her stomach knotted again and she murmured, "Thank you, Branson,"

He nodded and gave her a secret smile, Sybil returning it and looking up at him. Their moment was interrupted by Violet's comment across the table, "Why, Sybil, are you perfectly alright? You seem a bit flushed,"

"Of course, Granny, a bit warm is all," Sybil shook out of her reverie and returned to her meal.

As Branson left the dining room they exchanged flustered smiles, Sybil looking down at her knotted fingers and back up at Tom who was heading out of the room, a smile on his face. Sybil controlled herself, nearly laughing at his boldness, but her eyes locked with Mary's who gave her a questioning glance.

Sybil looked into her glass of wine, and felt her cheeks heat up once again.

**A/N: Okay, so there you go. Just a simple oneshot. I hope you liked it, please R&R! :)**


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